


Punk Rock Princess

by steviemarie



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, They're 17, Underage Drinking, background yumikuri, but so is ymir, jean is kinda a prick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7449727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steviemarie/pseuds/steviemarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean really doesn't want to be supportive in Ymir's dumb girl band aspirations, but... that guitarist tho...</p>
<p>modern!au; jeanxfem!reader</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

> Ughh constructive crit is more than welcome because it's been a while since I've had the confidence to post anything new online.

Jean takes a sip of his drink and surveys the room before him, wrinkling his nose. He's unimpressed, with both the disgusting taste of the cheap, shitty beer that the bar offers and at the venue itself. Most of the time, he's okay with crowds, but the small room is making him feel more than a little bit claustrophobic, far too many people are packed into this small space. Still, at least he's by the bar, which is considerably less crowded than it had been a few minutes ago. 

Because the wave of people who'd surrounded him minutes ago are far too interested in seeing what's about to happen any second now. But Jean won't be fooled, he knows that it won't be any good. And he can't wait until it's over and done with so he can leave. 

He's sure that he's never going to get the stench of smoke, stale beer and what he has a horrible feeling is other peoples sweat that fills the room out of his clothes. Though, the sweat doesn't really surprise him really, because just from looking at the other patrons in this shitty, run-down-hole-in-the-wall excuse for a 'bar' (which the only good point of so far has been that they don't seem to check for ID at either the door, or the bar itself) he can tell that showers aren't exactly high on their list of priorities. And that, well, that just makes him want to be here even less which is quite the considerable feet considering he didn't particularly want to come in the first place and his patience has been wearing thin for, oh, a good hour now. 

He takes another sip of the beer – wincing at the taste – and then nudges the freckled boy next to him. “Oi, Marco. Can we just...leave?” 

A flash of irritation appears In the freckled boys eyes as he mutters a sorry to Eren, who he'd been speaking to, and turns to his best friend. “No.” He says, flatly. 

“This is going to suck, really suck. You get that, right?” Jean whines in frustration. “They're the support band to the support band and you really can't sink any lower than that. Why do we all need to be here to watch them embarrass themselves? Hell, why'd they even ask us to come, they know they're going to be terrible, Christa can't even see over her kit for Gods' sakes.” He pauses for a second and frowns, the damn right ridiculousness of this situation becoming clearer by the second. “...Wait, how'd they even get booked for this in the first place?”

Marco, who likes to pride himself on being a literally angel of a human being to everyone expect Jean when he's in his moods like this, can't even think of an answer to his friends question and pauses for a second. And Jean can't stop the small smirk that curves over his lips. Yeah, he knows Marco well enough to know that the bot is absolutely scouring his brain for something nice to say. He settles on “It'll be an uh, experience.” which to be fair if you ask Jean isn't that much of a positive anyway. “And anyway,” Marco shoots him a look. “Christa and Ymir our are friends and we have to support them.” 

Are they though? Jean kind of wants to ask Marco if he's sure about that. Christa sure, Christa's great and they've pretty much known each other since their very first day of the very first year of school. He wouldn't call her a best friend, but not that he'd tell her, he kind of wouldn't want to not have her in his life. 

Ymir, however, he can't think of the last time his 'friend' Ymir (or, as he likes to think of her, the human equivalent of Grumpy Cat) actually acted like a friend to him. Come to think of it, he doesn't actually know where Ymir even came from, but at some point between the last year of high school and the first year of college Ymir just seemed to appear, started dating Christa and firmly plugged herself into, never to be removed from, their lives.

But yeah, judging from the look on Marco's face, now is not the time to bring this up. So he just shrugs and lets Marco turn his attention back to the conversation with their friends (and Eren) and turns his own back to the Worst Beer Ever™ as he laments his own life and friend choices. 

He doesn't really have too long to ponder though, because it's then that things finally, finally begin to kick into action and the lights in the room darken, making it seem even smaller and all the eyes of the unwashed masses of Trost turn to the (unstable looking) 'stage' area as they mutter between themselves excitedly. Unlike everyone else though, Jean and the others make no move to get closer, they don't need to – the room's small enough that they have a fine view from where they're standing already and in all honesty, even if they did all move forward Jean would stay put because he's not about to dive into that crowd of people, especially not for Ymir (hell, he isn't even sure that he'd do it for Marco and they've been best friends since they were three). Ugh, besides by the time all this bullshit is done with it'll start getting busier and more of a struggle to get out of because it'll be even closer to the main act of some local indie band that seems to have a decent enough following and is what everyone is actually here for. 

Ymir's 'band' are called The Pussycats and when she told them, Jean had asked her if she didn't think that that was breaking some sort of copyright, but of course Ymir had dismissed him with her usual sneeriness and asked him if he'd ever heard of a homage. Jean isn't sure that Josie and her gang would like to be associated with Ymir's sorry excuse for a band. 

Sure, as Ymir sets foot on the 'stage' she's carrying that confident swagger that she always does that translates really well into stage presence, but Jean's about 80% sure that the bass she's carrying his hanging too low.

And then she attempts to play it and well...

Apparently multitasking is not a concept that she has yet to grasp because the sound that's coming from her mouth as she tries to play is less singing and more unholy unintelligible wailing. And then there's the fact that he was right about Christa, because they're using someone else's equipment and her height hasn't been taken into account so she can't actually reach some of her drums. And Jean knows that he was 100% correct about tonight and he's about to witness the biggest car crash disaster he'll ever see in his life. 

Oh no, wait. Not about to. It' already is a disaster because it seems that Christa has already grown weary of trying to reach what she can't and has settled on hitting the two drums that she can reach every so often as Ymir continues to caterwaul her way through what Jean's identified as a cover of The Black Kids' “I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You”. Though if it wasn't for the guitarist who seems to be the one member of the band who seems to know what they're doing, he wouldn't have been able to guess. 

Actually, who even is the guitarist in this poor excuse for a 'grrrl band'? Christa did wax lyrical about them at some point but Jean hadn't recognised the name and hadn't paid much attention, because honestly he hadn't expected this whole band thing to even get this far, he thought it would have fizzled out within a week. 

So he looks away from Ymir making an utter, utter fool of herself and flickers his eyes (about an inch) to the left and he's right – it's evident that the guitar girl knows what she's doing. She has no stage presence whatsoever and has her eyes fixed down on the guitar that she's playing instead of looking out into the crowd at all, but hey, at least she's coherent.

Well, actually she's more than coherent – she's pretty good and Jean can't help but feel sorry for her because she'd so clearly be better off in a band that was formed for a mutual love of music and not because their 'lead singer' slash 'bassist' got bored during class one day and decided it would be a fun thing to do and now she's roped into it and she's stuck with Ymir and Christa and he pities her. 

The crowd most certainly aren't swayed by them, but at least they're not booing or throwing things (yet) it just seems to have caused mass confusion and Jean can see people whispering to each other and he's certain that persons lips just formed the words 'YouTube Social Experiment”. It's gonna be another song at best before someone chucks a beer bottle at Ymir's head, Jean can tell. And while he's not fond of her, he really fucking hopes that it doesn't come to that. 

“I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend...” ends and they go straight into another song that could very well be an original for all Jean knows because he's never heard it before. Then again, it could just be because it's unintelligible again. 

He finds his eyes drifting over to the guitarist again, to focus on her and see if he can get any idea from her. She's relaxed a little now, she's still looking down at her guitar but her posture has soften, she's not so stiff any more and she's bobbing her head along to Ymir's voice bow. 

When they reach what seems to be the chorus for the second time, she dares to look up into the crowd, before looking back down at her guitar quickly and Jean gets his first look at her face. 

She's pretty. Like really pretty and she's definitely someone that Jean hasn't come across at college before, because there's no way he'd have forgotten that face and he isn't about to forget it in a hurry now. She dares to look out in the crowd again, this time her eyes flicking over faces.

Until her eyes meet Jean's amber ones and he feels his throat tighten. 

She only looks at him for a second, but it's enough. Enough for him to be unable to tear his eyes away from her for the next and final song, just incase she looks at him again.

She doesn't

But it's okay. 

It doesn't matter.

Because boom.

Infatuation holds a guitar.

And he's already gone.


	2. Two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the concert.

Well. It's safe to say that The Pussycats won't exactly be setting the music industry alight with their erm... “unique” sound any time soon, or, y'know, probably ever. Their set ultimately consists of only three songs and then almost as quickly as they made their entrance, they're gone, bouncing off the stage and leaving behind a confused and irritated crowd who're probably regretting not throwing their beer bottles at them when they had a chance. 

Luckily though, because they weren't using their own instruments, a quick tune up later, in one of the quickest set changes Jean's ever witnessed, the actual support band comes on all booming guitars and catchy lyrics that send the crowd wild, The Pussycats now a long lost memory. If you ask Jean though, they're only a minor improvement on The Pussycats so... hey ho. 

His group of friends don't really pay much attention to this new band though (though Jean's pretty damn sure that he saw Eren bobbing his head along to the start of their first song – and of course he'd like crap music like this, simple things, small minds, etc). They're all too busy hissing among themselves about what exactly they should say to Ymir and Christa when they come out (“I think it's best if Jean and Eren keep their mouths shut,” is Sasha's helpful contribution) and Jean just doesn't have the energy to be offended that it's obviously unanimous because all eyes turn to be on him (including Eren, the cheeky fuck. And Marco. What happened to loyalty). Nah, his eyes are too busy drifting away from the group to look at the door by the bar. The one that Ymir and Christa had disappeared into when they'd arrived. He's not interested in seeing them come out, no he can see them whenever he wants, rather he's interested to see if you're coming out with your “band” so he can get an up close glance. 

You don't come out. 

When Ymir and Christa do though, they tumble into a mass of hugs and squeals and congratulations and pats on the back and much to Jean's surprise, neither of them seems all that embarrassed or disheartened by the fact that all of their closest friends, along with a ton of strangers have just witnessed the disastrous excuse for a first gig. Christa's all smiles and Ymir's just as cocky as ever when Marco is the one who attempts to lie to them and tell them they did great. 

“No, we sucked.” Christa tells them all cheerfully. “It was terrible.” 

“Yeah, everyone has to start out somewhere.” Ymir adds, with a shrug. “Even Courtney Love, so we can only get better.” 

Jean just looks at her, but decides against telling her that there are much, much better female musicians that she could be looking up to. You know, ones that haven't gotten away with murdering their ex-husband and all that jazz, but he holds it in. Because he knows that Ymir is Ymir and Ymir loves to argue and she's the best bet about finding out anything about you. “Yeah,” he says, instead. “Ymir's right, the more they practice, the more they'll approve.” 

Instead of accepting Jean's words gracefully, like a normal person, as soon as they leave his mouth Ymir's mouth drops open and she quickly pulls her face into a frown, muscles clenching around her mouth, eyes narrowed as she studies him with suspicion, almost as if she's trying to see if there is any of Jean's trademark snark hidden in his words. He half expects her to spit a biting comment back at him even though he's trying to be supportive, but she doesn't, she shrugs it off. Though he could have sworn that when she was obviously thinking the tiniest of smirks had crossed her lips... But hey, that's good sign – a couple of drinks and he might be able to get her in a chatty, less guarded mood. 

Except, that would be far too easy and things are never easy for Jean. Tonight's plan was supposed to be going over to Connie's to hang out because his parents and younger siblings are out of the house until Monday and hell yeah, free house. But then when Sasha mentions that they should leave and head over there before the main band starts and things get even more hectic, Ymir dismisses them. Turns out that she and Christa have been invited to a party at some girl called Hitch's and they leave to head over there, taking Annie and Mikasa with them. 

It all happens so quickly that Jean doesn't get the chance to make another attempt at being nice to her, or ask her anything else about the band before they've bounced off and everyone else starts getting ready to go to Connie's.

Not Jean though, he's too busy letting his eyes flicker back to the door near the bar, just waiting for you to come out, even though all the time everyone's been talking, no-one else has come out, trust him he's been looking. As everyone starts leaving, he turns to look once more.

Then Eren yells at him to hurry up and he has no choice but to leave any hope of seeing you again behind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the days go by, Jean keeps up his attempts to be nicer to Ymir.
> 
> They backfire.

And, as it turns out Jean's initial gut instinct was right, he hasn't been able to forget about you, your eyes, or your guitar all weekend because you've been popping into his head at the most inconvenient moments. If anything, that just makes him even more determined in his resolve to be a nicer human to Ymir so that hopefully he can get her to chill out and spill some more info. 

Jean's even texted her a couple of times this weekend – once to congratulate her on the gig and to ask her if they have anymore coming up, the other to check that they all got back from Hitch's house alright because he's heard how her parties can get (and only heard, he barely knows the girl so he's never been invited to one) . She doesn't really give him more valuable replies than “no.” and “yea.” though. So friendly. 

Now that it's Monday and they're all back at college, Jean has found himself on edge for most of the day, spending most of the time that he isn't in his classes keeping an eye out for her. He hasn't seen her all day and he's just coming to the conclusion that she's ditched as he and his portfolio are struggling out of the door of art, the last class of the day he finally spots her.

Ymir doesn't look in the best of mods – stomping down the hallway, face like thunder. It doesn't stop him calling out her name though.

She stops and turns and looks... less than thrilled about seeing standing there. With a sigh, she cross over. “What do you want, Kirschtein?” 

“Hey!” Jean replies, summoning the best attempt at a smile he can muster (though he's pretty sure it's more of a grimace than anything). “I've been looking for you today, wanted to talk to you.” 

She eyes him warily. “About?” 

“Oh you know, just the band...”

That self same look of suspicion that she'd given him Friday night takes over her features. “No.” She tells him.

Jean's grimace-smile slides off his face pretty damn quickly, replaced by a frown. “No what? You don't even know what I was going to say.” He snaps back at her, his temper getting the better of him. It has literally been under five minutes and he just can't be nice to her any more, that's how freaking frustrating she is. 

“Look. Kirschtein.” Ymir glares, speaking through gritted teeth. “I don't care how much you think you know about music, you are not joining my band. The Pussycats are all about girl power, female empowerment and all of that. I know you're weak as shit, but that still doesn't make you a girl.” 

It takes all of his self-control to not tell her where exactly she can shove her “band” are herself for that matter, as well as point out that she just referred to girls as weak and hey, he's sure that her girlfriend would be less than thrilled to hear about that and her insult was so dumb, but he manages to hold it back, keep it together. “I don't want to join your band,” his turn to talk through gritted teeth. “I was just going to tell you that if you're actually serious about doing this then I would be happy to help you out and design a logo for your future merch.” 

Ymir looks at him withering, like he's something she just scraped off of the bottom of her shoe. “Nah, we're good.” And she turns and stalks back off, stomping her way down the hall without even a goodbye.

Oh. That went well.

 

On Tuesday morning, Jean's lucky enough to not have to hunt for Ymir, because as he comes into college, she's there by her locker. “Oh, hey Ymir.” He greets her. 

And he tries not to laugh as he watches her recoil from the surprise and curse under her breath. “What do you want Kirschtein, it's far too early for your shit,” She huffs at him, not doing him the courtesy of actually looking at him more than a quick glance and just continues sorting things inside her locker. “And could you stop trying to smile at me like that? You literally look like you're about to shit yourself.” 

Jean bites back a biting remark, a string of curses, the type of stuff he actually wants to say to her and instead just asks the question he's been planning to ask her since last night. “So, hey do you have Facebook.” 

“Yes.” Ymir drawls, still looking in her locker. “We're Facebook friends, are we not? Or did I unfriend you because I tend to do that when people start to really piss me off and I get sick of seeing their faces...” She trails off, looking over her locker to give him a 'look'. And yeah, Jean gets that he's real close to being 'defriended' himself (though to be fair he hasn't a clue if they're actually still Facebook friends, because he rarely checks it and hasn't checked his list for god knows how long) but he decides to proceed with today's offer anyway. This idea is a much, much better one than that dumb one from yesterday because really now that he's thought about it why would they need a logo at this stage of the game? A logo wouldn't help them get the buzz they need at this point... 

In reply to her, Jean chokes out a little laugh that physically burns his throat (though maybe it's mental because he's certainly thought about how painful it is to play so nice with her) and he's immediately embarrassed by because the noise that comes out of him is so inhumane that it even causes the demon Ymir to flinch. “Of course we're still Facebook friends! But yeah, anyway didn't Sasha help you set up your page though?” 

“...What's your point, I haven't got all day here.” 

“Well...” Jean clears his throat. “I guess I was just wondering if any of you had set up a Facebook page for The Pussycats?”

Ymir lets out a long, drawn out sigh and looks like she wants to start smashing her head into the locker, but instead she just slams it shut. “Nobody likes us, so we don't need a Facebook page yet. If ever.” 

“Oh, sure you do.” Jean insists, trying to keep his voice at a level that could be described as 'bright'. “You're probably going to want to set up a Twitter account and maybe even a YouTube channel if you want someone other than us to actually start giving a shit about the band. You need to start building your fanbase now and that's the best way to go about it.” He pauses. “And I know that you're kind of like an eigbty year old where technology is concerned, so I was going to offer to help you set it up and teach you how to use it.” 

And Ymir looks like she wants to start screaming. “Look, Kirschtein. Thanks, but no thanks,” she grumbles through gritted teeth. “We don't need a fanbase yet, what we do need is to rehearse and write more music and get better and then we can do all of that stuff.” She shifts her bag onto her shoulder, eyes flashing with irrtation. “And now if you don't mind, I've got shit to do and places to be.” And much like yesterday, with a toss of her head and a glare in his direction, she stalks off. 

Without a second glance in his direction. 

“I'll take that as a no thanks, then yeah?” He shouts after her. 

His answer is her middle finger. 

 

It's Wednesday afternoon and Jean is sitting in the cafeteria with Marco. “And yeah, Connie ended up having to pay for everything.” He's talking about some bet that Connie made with Sasha but Jean really isn't paying that much attention because to be fair, he could care less about it and it happens all the time anyway. 

No, most of Jean's attention right now is being directed to the other side of the cafeteria where – right in his eyeline – sits Ymir completely decimating a plate of what appears to be fries in the most unladylike manner. If Sasha could see her right now.... tears of pride would be being shed and in all honesty, he's a little temped to try and record it on his phone for future blackmail material.  
But then that wouldn't help him with his quest to stay in her good books, would it? 

This is the first time Jean's seen her around today, even though he has again found himself looking out for her. It's probably not a bad thing though, because he can't think of anything thing to odder to do or help her out with and he needs something to lead into talking about the band, because if he doesn't then how is he gonna get her to give up any information about you? 

“...Are you even listening to me?”

“Huh? What?” Jean blinks over at Marco. “Sasha, Connie, KFC and a bet...? Come on, it's nothing new this happens all the time.” He shrugs at his best friend dismissively, trying to pretend that he's been listening far more intently than he actually has been. 

Marco falls silent, obviously sated by the answer. Or so Jean thinks, because after a few silent minutes he speaks again just as Jean's drifted off into his own thoughts again and when Jean looks up, he's frowning. “Are you okay?” 

“...What?”

“Well.” Marco clears his throat. “It's just since... well, probably since the weekend now you've been really distracted.” And oh, of course, Of course Marco would be the one to pick up on the preoccupation that Jean's been feeling. Fuck Marco for knowing him so well. 

Jean doesn't really feel like getting into the whole sorry tale about you and the band, because he knows that nobody knows him like Marco knows him (an entirely mutual thing by the way, you can't tell Jean anything about Marco that he doesn't already know) and so he knows exactly what Marco'd say. He'd just laugh, tell Jean that he was being silly and all he needs to do is ask Ymir flat out what your name is.

The thing is though, that unlike Marco Jean doesn't have that terrible habit of looking on the bright side and seeing the good in everyone. No, he's a realist and so he knows what would happen and that would be that Ymir would mock him in front of everyone, probably including you and then probably shit talk about him so that if he does ever actually get to speak to you, you wouldn't want to know anything about him.

So he just shrugs and pokes his food with his fork and tells Marco that he's fine and that all that's up is that he's working on an art project and he's distracted by that at least. 

Marco drops it at least, but the face he pulls when he looks back down at his food let's Jean know exactly how horribly unconvinced by that excuse he is. But still, he lets it drop and starts talking about Reiner instead so there's that. 

Jean really, really tries to pay attention to what Marco's saying this time, but he can't help it and his eyes start flittering back towards the table Ymir is sitting at. 

She's done destroying those poor, innocent fries now and instead of eating she's looking off to the side, a smirk on her face. Jean watches as she opens her mouth and says something to someone he can't see, obviously he can't hear her, he can just see her lips form the words. Then her smirk turns into a smile and she laughs. 

And someone slides into the seat next to her.

Oh.

Damn. 

You've been on Jean's mind damn near constantly since the day of the gig due to his dumb infatuation with you and he'd thought that he'd remembered your face pretty well, but somehow you manage to blow his mind all over again. Maybe it's because now you're not staring down at your guitar, kind of looking like you'd rather be anywhere else. Maybe it's because now you're listening intently to whatever it is that Ymir's saying and every so often your face'll break out into a smile that makes Jean's chest tight at how adorable it is and he wants nothing more than to be in Ymir's position right now, to be making you laugh like that, making you smike at him that way.

Jean wishes he wasn't so pathetic, so pitiful that he can't even ask your name because half of his brain is telling him to go over and do it and tell you how much he enjoyed the gig, but the other half, the smarter half is alerting him that Ymir is there and it would be a bad idea. 

And besides, even if it had been worth it he's missed his chance now because the pair of you are gathering up your things and walking off, out of the cafeteria, still chattering and laughing between you.

Jean could follow.

But he won't.

And he can't stop himself from watching until he can no longer see the pair of you. 

When he can't see you any more and he's forced to turn his attention back to the table, back to his (now cold) food, back to Marco, there's a knowing glance on the freckled boys face. And Jean should have kniwn that he would have picked up on it, after all the last few minutes haven't been the most subtle of his life. And so when he sees Marco take in a breath and open his mouth he's ready to spill his guts to his best friend. Ignore any advice he gets, but still, spill his guts.

“I'm not going to pretend I know exactly what's going on here,” Marco gives him a knowing glance. “So all I'm going to do is casually remind you that Ymir is a lesbian.” 

And Jean has never wanted to murder Marco more.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jean has the conversation with Marco.
> 
> And gets creepy on Facebook.

It's Saturday afternoon and Jean could not be more bored if he tried. And it's the worst kind of bored, the kind of bored where he just can't settle down and do something without giving up a few minutes later because nothing can hold his attention, he's so... restless. Marco's at work and so Jean technically only has to hold out until he's done and then they can go to the movies with Connie and Sasha and then onto Eren's house for the night, but that's still a few hours away. 

It's such a drastic boredness that there's even been a few times when he's gone back to his coursework to see if he can do anything to improve on it and it's not even Sunday night yet! He's also tried to start a few Xbox games, but they haven't held his attention. Neither have all the movies and shows he's started on Netflix.

From downstairs, he hears what he can only describe as a cackle and he's pretty sure that that;s the reason for his bored restlessness today. Normally he'll spend all of his free time in his room anyway because that's where his stuff lives – his TV, his consoles and his computer... but he's still free to scavenge around the house for food, or switch to the bigger TV in the family room where all the bluray's live. 

Today though... he's feeling pretty trapped because his Mom is spending the day having a “catch-up” day with some of her friends and Jean can't leave his room because he has no idea what he'll stumble upon, or worse, get dragged into. It really seems like these women will laugh at anything because every five minutes or so that damn cackling noise drifts up the stairs. He wonders if maybe one of the coven just has to speak to get the rest of them to practically (or literally, hey, he hasn't been downstairs) wet themselves in hysterics. 

Though Jean does suspect that the fact they've all been drinking since 11AM when the first one rocked up might have a lot to do with it.   
But he hates this. He hates feeling trapped and he wishes he could find something to keep his attention so he doesn't focus on the crowd of people downstairs. 

With an irritated growl, Jean hauls himself up off his bed to retrieve his laptop from his desk. Maybe Facebook will be the thing to cure him of his boredom, he doubts it though because it's been a good few hours since his phone has blown up with any notifications. He settles down on his bed with it on his lap though, back resting against the wall and clicks the familiar Chrome icon as soon as it loads, going straight to the website. 

And yeah, he's right nothing interesting has happened and his feed is just full of the usual bullshit statuses of song lyrics because his friends are ~oh so deep~, the stupid never funny pictures that the extended Kirschtein family are obsessed with sharing along with the usual game requests (and really, how many fucking farming and candy games are on this website? He's blocked a good hundred of them, but his family and Sasha seem to keep finding them). He remembers why he usually just checks his social media on his phone and not on the actual websites now. The only thing he learns from his feed is that he really, really needs to talk Bertholdt into getting an Instagram account because for some reason he and Annie are on a date at the aquarium and he's posted an obnoxious amount of pictures of Annie standing in front of various tanks of fish with the same damn emotionless expression on her face.

When he's finally, finally scrolled past all of that, Ymir's name ends up catching his eye. It's nothing big, no status update or news about the band or pictures of them rehearsing or anything like that, no it's just some results from a quiz she's taken on '80s rock music. 

It takes Jean a second to release what this means. 

He and Ymir are still Facebook friends, she hasn't deleted him or blocked him and so he still has access to the full version of her profile. Like her photos and events and... her friends list. 

You're in Ymir's band and from the way the two of you were in the cafeteria the other day, you're clearly actually real friends, or at the very least get on pretty well (why???). 

So you're probably there on her friends list. Which he can look at. Which means that this could finally be it, he could finally be about to find out your name and he might not even have to attempt to be nice to Ymir any more! And hell, he communicates better through texts and online messages than he does in real life, so maybe, just maybe he can send you a message and tell you how much he enjoyed your guitar playing at the gig.

Or would that be creepy?

Mentally bracing himself he swallows and opens her friends list. He can't imagine it being too extensive, as someone who talks to her on a daily basis and knows what she's like, so it shouldn't take him too long to find what he's looking for. And hell, even if he doesn't end up with the courage to message you, maybe it'll make things easier if he can just put a name to a face. Maybe that'll at least calm his creepy feelings down and he'll get a bit of his normal life back.

But because he's Jean Kirschtein and nothing for him can ever go his way, what should be a simple task doesn't turn out to be that simple after all. And even though he rolls his eyes at ninety percent of what's on his feed at any given moment, maybe he should start actually making an effort to visit the website every so often because he seems to have missed a memo about a dumb trend or meme or whatever you want to call it where you change your profile picture to that of a cartoon character. And at least half of Ymir's list seem to have done it. He can see Armin's face and Sasha and Marco's face. There's Bertholdt and there's Annie's, but everyone else (Jean can't help but notice that Reiner 'is' Joseph Joestar and can't help but snort at it)...

It sucks. It really freaking sucks because most of the names he can see are just of people he knows anyway – either because there his friends too, or people he vaguely knows, or people who share the same last name as Ymir so are probably members of her family. And there aren't really any people he doesn't know who are in the network of their college, or the town they live in. It was supposed to be easy. 

His heart skips a beat once and he thinks he's found you because he comes across the name Historia Reiss, but then he remembers who that is and just nope. 

Still, her friends list may have been a disappointment, but he still has her photo albums to go through and if there's any hope left in the world there will be a picture of you that's been tagged with your name. Or a picture of Ymir from your profile that she's been tagged in. So he Jean closes out her friends list and opens her photo albums and hears another wave of noise from the coven downstairs – something seems to have really excited them this time and he really needs to put some music on to down them out because they're never going to shut up are they? Shit's distracting. 

Most of Ymir's pictures are just selfies or pictures of her and Christa together, there are quite a few or him and the rest of their friends at parties or events or just hang outs that they've done together, but there are none of band rehearsals, or from the gig they did. And most of the people who's faces he doesn't recognize he recognizes as related to her (seriously though, it's an entire extended family of grumpy cats). And as each picture goes past and he deals with the burn of disappointment in the pit of his stomach, he doesn't give up clicking.

As he clicks the right arrow again, taking him to another coupley photo of Ymir and Christa, there's the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him and he can't be sure, but Jean is pretty positive that his heart actually stopped for a couple of seconds as he jumped at least five feet in the air.

“God, you really do have a thing for Ymir, don't you?” Jean wearily looks up from the laptop to see a red-faced Marco with a giant pink lipstick mark on his cheek leaning against the now open door frame. “You keep staring at her all the time and now you're going through all of her pictures on Facebook?” 

“What are you even doing here?!” Jean snaps in embarrassment and irritation at being caught as he x's out of Chrome and positively slams the lid of his laptop closed. “How long have you been stood there? Aren't you supposed to be at work?” 

Marco just pushes him off the door frame and doesn't respond to his friends angry tone. “I ended up having to switch shifts with someone, I'm working tomorrow morning instead.” He pushes Jean's laptop to the side so he can sit down on the bed next to him. “And I really haven't been here that long, your Mom's friends made me talk to them before they'd let me come upstairs.” He rubs at the lipstick mark on his cheek, doing nothing more than smudging it further. “They're terrifying, by the way.” 

“Yeah, why do you think I'm stuck up here,” Jean retorts, still on edge. “And no, it's not because I wanted to stare at pictures of Ymir, because fuck Ymir.” And as soon that sentence leaves his mouth, he thanks whatever deity there is out there that it's Marco in his room and not Eren or Reiner or Connie, because at least he won't get a crude joke spat back at him, it's just not Marco's style. 

Instead, the freckled one just raises an eyebrow at him. “...uh-huh...?” 

Irritation bubbles inside of Jean, he really doesn't need Marco to continue with his dumb thinking that he's Ymir thing, so with a deep sigh, he breaks the silence between them. “Yo... Marco... The girl in Ymir's band, the guitarist. You know anything about her?

Jean watches as Marco frowns, at look of concentration on his face, obviously trying to remember your face and what he knows about you when a look of realisation crosses his face. “Oh! Her! Not Ymir?” And Jean can't help but smirk at he hears what sounds like relief underlying in Marco's voice. But goddamn, how dense is Marco? The two of them have literally been best friends for fourteen years and he even entertained that thought? Yeah, maybe Jean needs to be in the market for a new best friend... When Jean nods, Marco smiles that grin that comes so easily to him. “Oh! She was cute, I suppose... Can't say I know anything about her though, sorry. Haven't had any classes with her or really seen her around either.” 

Well. Damn. That sucks, Jean thought Marco knew everyone, but at least Marco will stop thinking the downright bizarre things about him now. “Oh.” 

“Why don't you just ask her?” Marco suggests.

“Ymir? No.”

“Nope, the girl. You could just go and ask her if you see her around.” 

Jean narrows his eyes. “You're kidding, right?”

“No,” Marco laughs lightly. “If you're that desperate to find out more about her, why not just look out for her and go up to her? All you have to do is tell her you saw her at the gig and you liked it. Then you casually introduce yourself and she'll introduce herself back and then you'll have a name at least. And you'll have had a conversation with her and you can at least say hello to her when you see her around.” It takes one look from Jean to have Marco shrugging. “It was just a suggestion. Hey, I could do it if you want?”

“No!” Jean snaps, because he full well knows how friendly his best friend is and how because of it, girls find him adorable and that's not a risk he's willing to take before he's even had a conversation with her himself. 

“Okay.” Marco can't help but laugh at how defiant Jean sounds. “In that case, I guess we can just hope it works out for the best, right? I'm rooting for you.”


	5. Five,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which maybe Ymir's a lot more observant than she's given credit for.

And almost as quickly as it came around, the weekend ends and Jean finds himself back at college and suddenly he has no time to even think about you, Ymir, or the conversation he had with Marco because he barely has the time to remember to breathe. Overall, Jean likes to think that he's actually pretty good at keeping up with his projects and his school work, but unfortunately a deadline has approached him with much force and he's spent the last three days on about three hours sleep a night.

 

It's the third day that he's stayed behind after his classes has finished to have free reign of the resources in the art block and he's keeping up now, but he's sad and exhausted and all he wants to do is ride the next two days out so he can hand it in and be done with it and sleep for the rest of the year. He's done for the day and now his plans are to go home, eat something and then lock himself in his room for the rest of the night with his iPod and get through some more of the work. And maybe, just maybe if he gets home early enough and gets through enough, tonight might be the night where he gets a decent, healthy nights sleep.

 

And he could cry at just how good that sounds right now.

 

He tugs his phone out of his pocket to check the time and curses under his breath, the next bus is in ten minutes and he needs to be on that one, or he'll have to wait another half an hour for another one and he'll be damned if he's standing outside all that time when the wind is like it is today. 'Sides, the way he has his scheduled mapped out in his head, the longer it takes him to get home tonight means the less sleep he's getting and he's not about to let that happen. Not today.

 

But he's Jean and nothing in his life can ever go easily, or smoothly for him, so as his hand goes to the handle to tug the door open and let him out into the world outside, his phone buzzes in his pocket, vibrating against his thigh and lets him know that he has a text message.

 

He knows that he should leave it until he's safely on the bus, at least, because it's probably just Marco or Armin or someone and if it was really important, then they would have probably just called instead of texted, but he still feels compelled to pull it out of his pocket and check it.

 

It's not Marco or Armin or, god forbid, Eren.

 

It's Ymir.

 

And it says “r u still at college?”

 

Why? Oh God, why. He curses to himself under his breath and taps out a quick. _“Ye, y?”_

 

If he hurries, then he can still make that bus.

 

Before he even has a chance to shove the phone back into his pocket, it beeps again, a surprisingly quick reply from Ymir. It says one word _“Help”._

 

His eyes flicker to the time again and he sighs, there's no way that he's going to make the bus and get home when he wants to if he stops to help her out and honestly, why should he even care that she needs help? Half of the time she's just a complete asshole to him, more than half of the time actually.

 

But asshole or not, Ymir's not the kind of person to ask _him_ for help unless there was something seriously wrong and he guesses that they could be mistaken for friends... but he totally doesn't have a pang of worry in his stomach whatsoever, nope definitely not. “ _Where r u? What's wrong?_ ”

 

“ _Home,_ ” another quick reply comes back. “ _Got a big bio test 2moro & left bk in music block. Need 2 study or am fucked._” And there's a sad emoji at the end of it. And Jean feels frustrated as hell, because while he guesses that it's sort of somewhat serious (because really Wikipedia is a thing and she could just study for that) he just wants to text her back and say no and leave, but then again he doesn't really feel like getting the blame shoved onto him if she fucks up so royally she gets kicked out of school, which is the worst case scenario... but still. And she really doesn't live _that_ far away from him, just a couple of stops early on the bus and a ten minute at most walk back to his.

 

And hell, he deserves the karma after the way she's been acting lately. So he sighs and he replies _“what room?”_

 

“ _B_ ”.

 

“ _Okay”._ He replies and he doesn't get a text back telling him that he's the best-est friend ever, or that she owes him, or even a proper thank you but he doesn't expect them, so he's surprised when she does text back a smiley emoticon and he guesses that's her thank you in her own way. He's so keeping this conversation though, he'll find a good use for them somewhere down the line... even if it's just to remind her of that time he was a good person.

 

Satisfied that she won't text him back, he slides his phone back into his pocket, shifts his bag and his portfolio so they're easier to carry and with one last longing look at the door that would lead him to the outside world he sets off down the hall towards the music block, ignoring the stares of the random teacher still wandering around probably confused as to why Jean is still hanging around. Hopefully it'll be easy to grab and run, nobody else is really around this time of the day ever.

 

He struggles through the door when he reaches it, still trying to balance everything and seeing it completely dead. His hand reaches out for the door knob of room b and his phone buzzes in his pocket again. He curses under his breath, pulling it out and he's surprised to see another text from Ymir.

 

“ _So_ ,” it reads. “ _I decided 2 stop torturing u now”._

 

And he has no fucking idea what she's going on about. He shoots out a quick text back asking her what she means and then he actually pushes the door open.

 

And sound comes from inside, a soft lilting sound, accompanied by the twinkling sounds of a piano being played. It makes Jean stop in his tracks because, well, he really likes it. He knows that he shouldn't be stood by the door creeping on whoever is trying to use the room but he just can't drag himself away from the sound to just grab the book and run.

 

He's guessing that this is someone from the college choir, but he hadn't realized that they were actually any good otherwise he might have come along to one of their many, many events they keep plastering posters for all over the college and checked them out.

 

The singing and piano stop and he snaps out of it and edges his way into the room, leaving his bag and portfolio outside. He spots a text book on a table just in the door and edges into the room carefully, so not to disturb the person by the piano. He reaches out to grab the text book.

 

Which he does.

 

But not before knocking into the table, causing a loud thump. The person in the corner whirls round to face him, frown crossing their face.

 

Oh _shit_.

 

He recognizes that face.

 

He recognizes that face because it's been on his mind near-constantly ever since Ymir and Christa's stupid gig, he recognizes that face because he's been on constant alert around the college to see if he can spot it again. But he wasn't expecting to see it in here. He wasn't expecting that voice to come out of that mouth.

 

And of course, it's then that he realizes that he's stood just staring with his mouth half open. He clears his throat and opens his mouth, intending to say sorry.

 

But you get their first, you cock your head to one side studying him and then a look of recognition crosses your face. “Oh, hey you're Jean right? Ymir's friend.”

 

Holy shit.

 

You know his _name_.

 

He coughs again, clearing his throat and managing to squeak out the word “yeah”.

 

You nod and – holy shit – you smile at him. “Right, yeah you came to our gig. What're you doing here?” You ask.

 

In reply he just holds up Ymir's text book.

 

You roll your eyes. “Did Ymir send you for that? Honestly, she'd forget her head if it wasn't attached to her shoulders,” there's a fondness in your voice as you say it though.

 

Jean shrugs. “I don't mind.” He tells you and then his mouth takes on a life of it's own and he blurts out. “Your voice is really nice.”

 

You beam at him. “Thank you! I'm working on a song for The Pussycats, thought it might be good to have some original material. Just gotta figure out something that matches Ymir's voice though.” He doesn't miss the slight frown that crosses your face. “Thanks for coming by the way. I know it was a disaster.”

 

“It wasn't that bad,” Jean's mouth blurts out even though his brain is telling him that yeah she's right, that gig was a damn disaster. Well, most of it was anyway.

 

“Ymir was really happy you all came,” she laughs. “Especially you, because she said she knew you'd be truthful about it, she was so disappointed in you when you told her it wasn't too bad.”

 

“She's been talking about me?”

 

“Yeah,” you say dismissively as you look down at your watch, pull a face and you start gathering up your papers from the piano and shoving them in your bag. “She talks about all her friends all the time. She feels really comfortable around you, I think.” You shift your bag onto your shoulder. “I'm really sorry, I wish I could stay longer and talk but I've gotta go... my brother's band has a gig tonight and I'm supposed to be running the merch stand. Thank God we're not supporting their support band this time though.” You pull a face.

 

Oh, well that explains how such a terrible band got any kind of slot.

 

You wonder towards the door, sliding out of it and start walking, looking back to flash him another smile. “Hey, I'm here practising a lot after classes, if you're around you're really welcome to come listen. I could do with some outsider opinions from someone truthful.”

 

Wait.

 

Did you just invite him to come hang out with you in the music room at some point?

 

Well, Jean can't feel his legs.

 

He watches as you carrying on walking down the hall and he shouts after you. He knows that he has to. Just to end his suffering. “Hey,” You turn back. “What's your name?”

 

And you smile.

 

And laugh lightly.

 

“Sorry! Should've introduced myself.” You tell him.

 

He waits with baited breath.

 

“I'm ____.”

 


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh look it's the end of this hella drawn out thing. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed jean's finding-out-your-name journey with me. Heads up that from next week sometime I'll be starting a new jean x reader series. So if you wanna check that out I'd be happy thanks.
> 
> Thanks for reading this.

“Are you ready for tonight?” Jean asks as he watches you busying yourself by shoving notes and books into your bag. You're both in the music room, the place where you've been busy writing and practising and Jean has been watching and occasionally, helping. It's a pattern that the two of you have fallen into over the last month. Well, it's a pattern he's fallen into over the last month anyway – you'd told him that he could come and hang out and he's found himself doing that more and more often.

 

It's become a daily thing when you're both at college.

 

In the last month, Jean's learned a lot about you – your favourite colour, your favourite band, your favourite food and all that regular stuff. But also that you've been playing the piano since you were three years old and you come from a family of musicians – your mother is a piano teacher, your father is a producer and your brother is uh... the lead singer of that band that The Pussycats supported than Jean hates so much.

 

When he found that out, every question he still had about how the hell Ymir'd swung that gig i9n the first place had been answered in one fell swoop.

 

Jean had found out that you'd been in choirs since you were a kid and that you were currently one of the lead sopranos in the college choir. That you'd known Ymir since before college and that you considered her a close friend, that you hadn't exactly been down for the band thing but she'd been so excited about the idea of it that you'd agreed anyway. That now you were in said band, you were determined to actually whip Christa and Ymir into something acceptable.

 

Ultimately, he'd found out that behind that pretty face, you were actually pretty fucking cool. And he was so happy that he had the chance to get to know you.

 

You blow a piece of hair out of your face and give him a look. “Is one ever really ready for a performance with The Pussycats?” You teased.

 

Tonight was The Pussycats' second gig. Again, your brother had a gig in that same rundown bar and he'd offered you a spot as a support again.

 

Unfortunately, he'd offered it in front of Ymir.

 

“Yeah, but it might not be so bad this time.” Jean tries to reassure you. “You're getting a lot better, or should I say Ymir and Christa are getting a lot better. Just make sure Christa can see over the kit this time,” he teases you back. “And maybe tape Ymir's mouth shut before you start?”

 

His heart beats just a little faster as you shake your head at him, a fond smile playing on your lips. He's seen your smile, seen you laugh, heard you say his name and said yours so many times now but he still gets such a kick out of it.

 

Such a kick out of just being around you.

 

He should probably tell you how he feels about you, because he still has the whole romantic feelings for you going on... but he can't, because what if all this ends? What if he can't hang out with you like this anymore? What if you're grossed out by the whole thing.

 

Becoming friends with you has only made those feelings stronger, though.

 

“You're coming tonight, right?” Jean looks up to find you staring at him curiously, head cocked to one side, no doubt wondering what he was thinking about that got him that lost in his thoughts. “I need my good luck charm,” you're teasing him again, no doubt about it but his heart still skips a beat.

 

“Course I'll be there.”

 

*~*~*

 

Same shitty bar, same shitty beer, same leaning against the bar next to Marco and Eren. But hey, this shitty bar still isn't ID-ing, so that's something. Jean's eyes cast around, he hasn't seen you or Christa or Ymir even turn up yet and your set is supposed to start in ten minutes. Again, it's just the support act of the support act.

 

But hopefully things will go a little bit better this time.

 

He knows how hard you've been working, writing your own unique material and because Ymir's still insistent about how much she wants the band to succeed, you've been spending a lot of time rehearsing and coaching them through.

 

Jean wants this to go well for you, so bad. Or at least for this to not end up with you being bottled.

 

You could have fooled that crowd once before, but he doubts that a second time is going to be the charm.

 

“Hey?” Jean looks up to see all eyes on Sasha. “So what're we going to do this time, you know when this ends up crashing and burning. 'Cos last time they said they knew they sucked, but if we actually say that they're trash...”

 

“I don't think they'll be that bad this time.” Jean finds himself saying without even really thinking about it. “They've had more time to rehearse... and... stuff,” he trails off as he realizes that he's being stared at by the rest of the group and their raised eyebrows. Well, expect Marco, obviously.

 

“Oh right,” Eren's smug fucking face gets smugger when he breaks into that stupid fucking smug smile of his. “You been sitting in on their rehearsals now? God knows you stalk that poor girl everywhere else.”

 

“I don't stalk her.” Jean retorts through gritted teeth. “We're friends. That's all.”

 

“Yeah,” Marco decides to chime in for some reason. “They're just friends.” And Jean really does not like the way he says that, the emphasis he puts on just friends as if he's trying to hint at something.

 

But when he glares at him, Marco just grins back.

 

Jean hates his friends.

 

“I think it's cute,” Sasha joins in. “I didn't think we were ever gonna marry him off, with that horse face that only a mother could love and everything.” She teases.

 

Jean really hates his friends.

 

“Nah,” Connie smirks, joining in on what is apparently International Taunt Jean Day. “She's only letting him hang around with her out of pity, nothing is going to happen there.”

 

Has Jean mentioned he really fucking hates his friends?

 

He knows that they're only teasing him (with the exception of Eren probably) but it's still annoying, they really suck.

 

A familiar snort behind him sends a chill down Jean's spine and he turns round to see The Pussycats in all their glory standing behind him. Ymir is smirking, Christa is wearing her very highest shoes (she does know she'll be sat down, right? Jean can't help but wonder) and you... well, you just look bemused.

 

And he's guessing that you heard all of that.

 

“We're running late, can't stop.” Christa says, cutting off Ymir when she opens her mouth and grabbing her girlfriend's arm, practically dragging her towards the door to the 'back stage' area leaving you to follow behind them.

 

Which you do.

 

For about ten steps.

 

“Oh hang on,” you mutter, breaking off from Ymir and Christa and walking back towards the group. When you get to them, you grab Jean and pull him onto a tight hug. “Thanks for being here,” you whisper against his ear.

 

And when you let him go, you lean up and press a kiss onto his lips.

 

With a smirk, you raise an eyebrow at his friends before sauntering off through the door and into the back room.

 

Well.

 

Jean'll just wait for you after you finish, he guesses.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on Tumblr @sailoreiss.


End file.
